


When Worlds Collide

by Oriole T (inamac)



Category: Discworld - Pratchett, Harry Potter - Rowling
Genre: Bad Puns, Crossover, F/M, Footnotes, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-10
Updated: 2008-09-10
Packaged: 2017-10-10 02:31:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/94455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inamac/pseuds/Oriole%20T
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are some things with which Man should not meddle (nor witch nor wizard, either).</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Worlds Collide

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Large Cauldron Collider Ficlet Fest (the objective of which was to pair Snape with as many characters as possible before _the end of the world as we know it_).

When Worlds Collide  
by Oriole T

The End of the World was coming. Granny Weatherwax had been quite certain about that. She had also been certain that the EotW could be averted by a bit of sex magic with the right wizard.

Unfortunately the right wizard turned out to be living in another reality. And also, reputedly, not to be all that keen on sex.

Granny had, accordingly, decided to delegate the task of Saving the World to someone who was very keen on sex. And who had a great deal of experience. Which was why Nanny Ogg was sitting on the top of the Unseen University's Tower of Art stark naked (underneath her voluminous purple wizard's robe - necessary to sneak through the gates of the University which did not, under any circumstances, admit women1) and clutching a candlestick.

The Tower of Art was very high, and consequently very windy. Lighting a candle in a high wind, even if one is an accomplished witch, is no easy task. Gytha Ogg swore. Then she cursed. Eventually she extracted a small, dark, leather-covered bottle from the depths of her robe and took a swig.

Problems reduce to their essentials in the face of alcohol, particularly when the alcohol is flammable and the solution to the problem is to produce flame. Shortly thereafter the candle was merrily alight2 and Nanny proceeded to the important part of the ritual.

===

Eight hundred feet below, and a little to the left, Ponder Stibbons was attempting to explain his latest thaumaturgical experimental device to Archchancellor Ridcully.

"What does it do?" Ridcully asked. He leaned against the huge wooden upright which was part of a framework supporting ropes attached to eight gigantic cauldrons held suspended some six feet above their heads.

Stibbons watched as a faint glow of octarine light shimmered around the construction and took a deep, calming breath. "Well," he said, very quietly, "it could rip a hole in the whole fabric of time and space and let through all the creatures from the Dungeon Dimensions."

=====

Far above, Nanny Ogg blew out the remains of the candle and examined the person who had appeared in the doorway. "Well you don't look like something from the Dungeon Dimensions," she observed.

The dark-haired wizard drew himself up to his full height and looked at Nanny down a nose which gave one of the passing Tower ravens a severe inferiority complex which it subsequently took several hours of expensive aversion therapy by the Tower gargoyles to cure.

"Madam," he said, in schoolmaster tones, "I have lived in the dungeons of Hogwarts for several decades now, and I do assure you that in the light of my exertions in reaching the top of this tower I am all too painfully aware of where I have come from. My question is, where have I come to?"

_Perhaps we should pause here for a short explanation, while Nanny and the newcomer (who is, of course, Potions Master Severus Snape) get acquainted. There are reputed to be 8,888 steps to the top of the Tower of Art. Since the Tower itself is only 800 feet high it stands to reason that some of those steps pass through spaces that are not entirely real, or fixed in one dimension. Stairs, in fact, with similar properties to those with which the moving staircases at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry are imbued. Normally such congruencies would not concern the witches and wizards inhabiting both institutions. This was partly because wizards (with the possible exceptions of the Bursar and Professor Trelawney) generally set out with a fixed idea of the place at which they intend to arrive, but mainly because no one bothered much about climbing stairs at all when a broomstick or a quick translocation spell (or, in the case of Hogwarts, apparition) would eliminate the necessity._

It was unfortunate for Snape that, mindful of the inclement weather, instead of apparating directly to the top of the Astronomy Tower for his tryst with his current paramour, he had elected to aim for the last landing and climb the dozen or so final steps to the door from there. He had correctly anticipated the wind. He had not anticipated a twist in the space/time continuum somewhere around step 8,881 - or an amorous elderly witch.

====

"Hmm. Or?" enquired Ridcully (He knew from experience with the Thaumatalurgical Wizarding Investigations Team that there was always an 'or'.)

"Or - and we are rather hoping that this will be the case, as it is the reason that Lord Vetinari funded the project - it could provide free power and light for the whole of Ankh Morpork for the next five hundred years."

"I see," the Archchancellor lied. "But does it have to be so ruddy BIG?" He tapped one of the cauldrons with the end of his staff. It clanged gently against it's nearest neighbour, causing the whole structure to resonate like a bell. "It's rather hypnotic the way they swing like that. I'd quite like a small one for my desk."

Stibbons mentally gibbered. "Er, I'll see what I can arrange, Archchancellor. I'm sure we have a few of the prototypes around somewhere. Only please don't start them swinging until Hex has set up the calculations. Size is very important."

"Really?" Ridcully looked sceptical. "I was always told that it's not the size so much as what you do with it."

As it happened, the person who had made that remark to the Archchancellor was repeating the assurance to another wizard not far away.

====

And (look, I'm sorry to have to say this but, confronted with Nanny Ogg better men than Severus have blenched), Snape squeeked. "Madam! What do you think that you are _doing_!"

"I thort it was obvious. I'm _un_doing. My my, what a lot of buttons."

"But... but..."

Nanny Ogg's fingers did not stop their task, though they did speed up a bit as they moved lower. "You heard him. We could be headin' for the end of the World when that thing starts. And I, for one, don't intend to go without a good shag."

"Unhand me at ONCE!"

Nanny pouted as she reached the last few crucial fastenings. "I haven't handed you yet. But I certainly intend to, once _this_ is out of the way."

_This_ was a tangle of the wizard's nether garments which Nanny, having finally completed her 'undoin', unceremoniously used both hands to shove down over Snape's hips, exposing his naked flesh to the biting wind and the curious gaze of the circling ravens.

"Caw!!!"

Quoth, the raven leader, paused in mid-air and crashed into an unexpected gargoyle. The raven's comment was echoed rather more reverently by Nanny. "My," she added, carrying out her promised intentions with her free hand, "it is true what they say about wizards, then."

"What?" Snape gasped - the woman was completely overwhelming and really rather good at this. The effect of the wind was rapidly abating.

"The bigger the staff, the smaller the wand. And vice-versa."

"Oh." Snape gave up trying to work out whether this was intended as an insult or a compliment, and gave himself up to the sensation of a warm hand, and a really astonishingly skilled tongue doing things to his cock and balls that all the gold in Gringotts could not have bought in Knockturn Alley.

====

By the time Gytha's own borrowed robes had been hitched up, and her voluminous knickers lowered far enough to enable Snape to employ his wand, followed by his cock, in the furtherance of their mutual pursuit of pleasure the prospect of the end of the world was the last thing on either of their minds. So it was a pity that, at the moment of mutual climax, Nanny's flailing hand struck the remains of the candle from the edge of the parapet just at the moment that Stibbons gave the command to release the cauldrons.

====

_Several days later - a hovel in the Ramtops_

"You might have said," Nanny grumbled, as Granny Weatherwax lifted the kettle from the hearth and started to pour the tea.

"Said what?" Esme didn't take criticism well, and Nanny seldom offered it.

"That the sex wasn't exactly necessary. If all it took was a little wax in the works I could have sent Our Jason round with a polishing cloth. It would have saved a lot of trouble all round."

Granny made a noise like a camel. "And would you have believed me, Gytha Ogg?"

Nanny thought about it. On the whole the experience hadn't been unpleasant. In fact she had wondered vaguely whether another trip to the Tower of Art - and a possible investigation of the stairway in the opposite direction - might not be worthwhile. Maybe, after all, people from the Dungeon Dimensions might not be entirely bad news. That one certainly hadn't been quite as reticent as expected. She sipped her tea thoughtfully.

~Fin~

**Author's Note:**

> [1] Except, of course, for cooks, cleaners, bottle-washers and members of the Seamstresses Guild
> 
> [2] The whole candle, not just the wick - Ramtops witches do not do things by halves.  
> 


End file.
